“I’m sorry about this,” I added. “It seems that every time you visit, something happens and I can’t give you my full attention.”

“I don’t need your full attention.”

“Someday you’ll understand.”

“Maybe I’m the same way about my work. In fact, maybe I learned from you. I’ll probably be successful like you, too.”

My spirit felt as heavy as lead. I was grateful that I was wearing sunglasses. I did not want Lucy to see my eyes.

“I know you love me. That’s what counts. I know my mother doesn’t love me,” my niece said.

“Dorothy loves you as much as she is able to love anyone.”

“You’re absolutely right. As much as she is able to, which isn’t much because I’m not a man. She only loves men.”

“No, Lucy. Your mother doesn’t really love men. They are a symptom of her obsessive quest of finding somebody who will make her whole. She doesn’t understand that she has to make herself whole.”

“The only thing ‘whole’ in the equation is she picks assholes every time.”

“I agree that her batting average hasn’t been good.”

“I’m not going to live like that. I don’t want to be anything like her.”

“You aren’t,” I said.

“I read in the brochure they have skeet shooting where we’re going.”

“They have all sorts of things.”

“Did you bring one of the revolvers?”

“You don’t shoot skeet with a revolver, Lucy.”

“You do if you’re from Miami.”

“If you don’t stop yawning, you’re going to get me started.”

“Why didn’t you bring a gun?” she persisted.

The Ruger was in my suitcase, but I did not intend to tell her that. “Why are you so worried about whether I brought a gun?”

I asked: “I want to be good at it. So good I can shoot the twelve off the dock every time I try,” she said sleepily.

My heart ached as she rolled up her jacket and used it as a pillow. She lay next to me, the top of her head touching my thigh as she slept. She did not know how strongly tempted I was to send her back to Miami this minute. But I could tell she sensed my fear.

The Homestead was situated on fifteen thousand acres of forest arid streams in the Allegheny Mountains, the main section of the hotel dark red brick with white-pillared colonnades. The white cupola had a clock on each of its four sides that always agreed on the time and could be read for miles, and tennis courts and golf greens were solid white with snow.

“You’re in luck,” I said to Lucy as gracious men in gray uniforms stepped our way. “The ski conditions are going to be terrific.”